Adobo Criollo Sergio Antonio Ortiz Rivera

spring fragrance she covers his body with mums

winter moon-- how I long for flowers by the waterfall

clear waterfall  a winter’s moon yet no flowers

silent tears . . .   mother's gravestone   buried in moss or mother's gravestone   buried in moss-   Buddhist prayers  

autumn wind how blue the mums look 

gorgeous gulmohar   yet it is raining… last day of April

march against violence-- cherubs view   the orchid blossoms  

crows perched on an iron fence... spring morning

mid morning –   ‘new leaves sagging   in the rain’  

jícaro hueco… capullos de rosas purifican mi corazón  hollow gourd… rose buds keep the heart clean and pure

winter journey… my knees weaken as we part

mail call— how graphic can we get? spring fever

snow on snow even the cranes  are silent

river reflection...   herons play peek-a-boo   in the shallows  

gentle as a butterfly fluttering in the night... spring chill

spring solitude I turn off the TV to watch the rain 

Libya another gasoline hike winter storm  

Blue Herons I stopped asking about the mouse in my apartment.  It is dead; I buried it in the back of the house, but first I set it on fire. Never again will it haunt me in my own space, or steal my words or walk among the images in my poems.    Today my unwritten lines will speak about a thousand and one blue herons darkening the magnolias with their parasols.  

she carries   an empty water jug . . .   Haitian dawn  

morning chill your breath gleams among the tulips